


Stitches

by Dragon_Scribe



Category: One Piece
Genre: Injury, M/M, Post-Little Garden, Sanji helps Zoro, Stitches, ZoSan (if you squint)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 09:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Scribe/pseuds/Dragon_Scribe
Summary: Everything had finally settled down after their departure from Little Garden.No one noticed when Zoro snatched the first-aid kit and disappeared.{Takes place after the Little Garden arc from the Alabasta saga. Where our favorite marimo thought the best solution to his situation was to cut off his freaking legs.}





	Stitches

Everything had finally settled down after their departure from Little Garden. Everyone had split up to do their own thing: Luffy and Usopp sprinted around to play with Carue on the deck, Nami disappeared among her tangerine trees with Vivi and Sanji went off to do whatever he needed to do.

No one noticed when Zoro snatched the first-aid kit and disappeared. His legs were screaming at him, each step making more blood pump from the cuts as he descended below deck and into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he allowed himself to take a shaky breath as he forced himself to move. His body ached, the stress of the fight settling in and making his head throb. Dropping himself down on the floor, he pulled his boots off before slowly gripping the hem of his pant legs and beginning to roll them up. He bit his lip to keep from groaning in pain as he accidently stretched the torn skin. Crimson drops began to fall to the floor as the wounds became exposed.

“Shit,” Zoro cursed when he leaned forward to examine them. The gashes encircled both of his calves, a few millimeters deep all around—definitely going to scar. If it didn’t burn so damn much, he would be impressed at the consistent depth and how clean he managed to cut while quickly solidifying into wax. Luckily, it didn’t look like there would be any lasting damage to the muscles. Sighing, he reached forward and opened the kit, looking for a needle and thread. Right when he managed to get the thread through the needle’s eye, a knock sounded on the door. “Busy,” Zoro grunted, lowly. The door opened anyway and he looked up with a glare. “What is it, shit cook?” A cigarette was between Sanji’s lips as he peered down at the swordsman, on the floor with bleeding wounds and a needle in hand. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, much to the annoyance of the swordsman before he closed the door.

Zoro frowned in confusion before shrugging it off and mentally preparing himself to sew his skin back together. Taking a deep breath, he lowered the needle to his inner ankle and braced himself. Just before he could puncture through the skin, the door opened again, making him exhale in frustration. “Damn it, what is it?” He hissed. To his mild surprise, Sanji stood in the doorframe once more, cigarette absent. Without saying a word, he moved further into the room, closed the door and handed Zoro a bottle of sake.

“Take this. Give me that,” He told the swordsman, nodding at the needle.

 “The hell are you doing?”

“I’m stitching up the gaping cuts in your legs, stupid marimo. Knowing you, you’d just let them get infected.” Sanji maneuvered himself so that he sat in front of Zoro, snatching the needle from the green-haired man. He snapped out of his mild shock as Sanji reached out and with a surprisingly gentleness lifted Zoro’s left leg and straightened it out. Uncorking the bottle, Zoro took a few gulps. At the bittersweet taste, he realized that the cook had given him the best alcohol that they had on the ship at the moment. “I’m starting now,” Sanji warned, preparing to insert the needle. Zoro simply grunted and took another drink, already feeling a little buzzed when he felt the small stabbing begin. They sat in silence, with the occasional groan from Zoro when Sanji tightened the stitches. After a while, Sanji grabbed the scissors and snipped the thread. Looking around the room, his eye landed on a folded towel not too far away and pushed himself off the ground. Turning on the sink, he soaked it for a couple seconds before wringing it out and dropping back down to the floor. With soft strokes, Sanji wiped away the drying blood all over his foot. Once he was done, he reached for the roll of bandages, beginning to wrap them around Zoro’s calf.

As Sanji began on his other leg, Zoro couldn’t help but stare at the cook. The man’s eyebrow was furrowed as he concentrated solely on what he was doing. He rarely cared when Zoro was hurt before and he never, ever offered to help him with his injuries. He watched as Sanji’s sturdy fingers sewed the separated skin back together, black thread standing out from his tanned legs.

“Why’re you helping me?” Zoro asked, unable to clamp down on his curiosity.

Sanji paused in his work, not looking up at him as he answered, “Looked like it hurt.”

“I’ve been through worse.” The swordsman raised an eyebrow. Sanji gave him a look of slight irritation.

“You want me to stop and let you mess it up?” He threatened, though without his usual malice. Zoro stared at him and didn’t answer, questions running through his mind as he tried to think of any reason why Sanji, the pervert cook that fought with him on more occasions than he could count, was helping him. When Zoro didn’t say anything, the cook turned back to his leg, finishing up the same routine he did with his other leg. He made sure that they would hold before wrapping it snugly. “Try not to be so eager to slice your limbs off, damn marimo.” He commented, standing up and stretching his arms. Zoro watched as he started for the door, already pulling out his cigarettes and lighter. Maybe it was the alcohol that made him say it, but it also reflected his inner emotions as Zoro grumbled out,

“Thank you, Sanji.” The cook stopped in his path, unlit cigarette between his lips as he stared back at the other man, pushing himself to his feet. A faint trace of pink rose to Sanji’s face as he forced his gaze away.

“Don’t mention it. Zoro.”


End file.
